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Saturday, 29 March 2014

Poem: There are things we kept secret




you gazed at me from the corner of the eye
as I drifted miles away, dazzling thoughts and a tempestuous heart
every now and again, I get lost in this man-mad madness
as we sail this mortal coil
from out of that darkness, headlights appear
many have wandered down this path
always stopping at red lights
every passenger has his burden to carry
words said can't be forgotten
thoughts have a way of becoming an opinion, a critique
and they seem to glue themselves to our very existence
there are things we kept secret
after all the butterflies flew out from our mouths
but you seem to know the song I'm singing
and I give you my body to share its fragility and strength


*
Written for a poetry prompt by the real toads.

Poem: Houses breathe us in

Photograph by Margaret Bednar
"I'm always drawn back to places where I have lived, the houses and their neighborhoods" - Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany's

*


houses breathe us in

their walls dripping with time past, entwine lifelines

the museums of our triumphs, failures and milestones

all filled with stains from which we grew

places we've been to are wired like electrons to our memories

returning, revisiting at any moment

from the forests where the battles of history unfolded

to the mists of the April rain showers

and the sunlight of the evening catching your desires

you were there,

                that's why it matters

a certain feeling, a sound - like a silk tread

pierces through our hearts, evoking a traveller within
*

Written for a prompt by Margaret at the real toads.

Saturday, 22 March 2014

Poem: I knew you



I knew you,
although I'm sure 
our paths haven't crossed before
I knew you, 
like I know my toes
sipping warmth from the soil
I knew you, 
like I know my fingers
steeped in paint
I knew you, 
like I know the rhymes
I form from out of that internal dialogue
I knew you, 
like I know the crooked smile
I leave when I do something mischievous
I knew you, 
like I know that if we wore the same shoes
the steps we'd take would be unique for each one of us
despite the difference of opinion
or for that reason in particular
we are to be and love one another

*

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

Poem: Imperfections



above the treetops
                birds extend their wings of freedom
the thoughts you hold inside keep your mind captive
after a certain amount of time spent
you grow accustom to this silence between the walls
disrupted by a rhythmic spreading of the lungs
as if wind were dusting off the dirt
that the road has left on us
 

the world we create
                forces us; to convert our values
- our faces to fit the made up standards
making a race to keep up with the money-making machine
selling youth and beauty, labeling age as a disease
friends turning into numbers, and we're adding them up
on screen, once they have passed the test
                caved in under the pressure

into a swirl it grabs us
some never realize the slaves they've become
others shed a tear for the person they could've been
                                  *
I listen to your voice
                taking me places I've never seen before
and you said: »I love the moon for its imperfections.«

Sunday, 9 March 2014

Blog: Welcoming sunrays

These few sunny days have been long time coming, to warm us up, and give us some energy. Ollie for one, loves it (and the places he finds comfortable are just hilarious). Yesterday I was a lumberjack for a day, today we went to the seaside. I enjoyed working in the forest, I actually regret that my job doesn't involve it, it's really rewarding (I'm probably saying this, cause I don't have to work in the forest everyday). And last week one of my guinea pigs past away...now only his brother remains, but he's doing fine.


Haven't seen the second part of The hobbit trilogy, but the song from the soundtrack caught me (made me think how we take stories we read as children with us, and those stories in movies we liked):


As I was knitting I also watched a few movies, and one really surprised me, I enjoyed it, it's... just... amazing. Geoffrey Rush was a good choice for this one, as were others as well, and the story itself it heartbreaking (shame I didn't read the book yet):
Haven't had that much inspiration since I started working on the new poetry book. But I don't doubt that it will soon come. Meanwhile, here's a few things I made (I really like knitting with zpagetti yarn, it's also way faster than regular yarn and more firm; and doing make overs to old skirts is also fun):
I must share one more thing, this video is so cute (wishing I had a squirrel):
Looking forward to the energy of spring, really need it, I feel drained. The longer days and fresh air help a lot.